


Teammates are there in sickness and in health

by loveforhockey



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Comforting, Fever, Fluff, Food Poisoning, Larkin is a sick baby who gets taken care of by teammates, M/M, Rookie/Mentor - Freeform, Sickfic, air sickness, mentoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6769681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveforhockey/pseuds/loveforhockey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henrik Zetterberg came back to his hotel room to find it empty, no rookie in sight. After a moment of puzzlement as to where he could be, belching and chocking sounds being emitted from the bathroom answered the question. Gently creaking the door open, it revealed his rookie, Dylan Larkin, hunched over the toilet bowl, more or less puking his guts up.</p><p>Dylan Larkin does not have a strong immune system<br/>3 times Dylan gets sick and the teammates who help him get better</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teammates are there in sickness and in health

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a request. So sorry this took so long!

1: Fever

“Dylan! Get down here! Now!” Riley Sheahan yelled from downstairs of their south east Michigan home.

In order to arrive at practice on time they would need to leave in half an hour, which didn’t seem likely when Dylan was still buried under the mountain of blankets he insisted on having in his bed. Usually Riley would come downstairs and find the rookie cooking breakfast for his two other teammates over the stove but was met with just the grumble of the coffee maker this morning. He thought he’d let the kid sleep in, which was probably good for him, and got to work on breakfast. Eventually Luke came down as well, surprised by the absence of the rookie who more often than not insisted on getting an early start to the morning.

Sleep is great, yes, but they need to leave in half an hour and that barley gives Dylan enough time for his morning routine. After getting no response from yelling, Riley made his way up to the rookie’s room and left Glennie to clean up the remains from breakfast.

“Dylan! We leave in 30 minutes, it’s time to get up.” Riley said, stopping in the door way. The mound on the bed shifted slightly, a broken whimper making its way through the layers of blankets.

“Dylan...” Riley walked over and swiftly removed the thick comforter on his bed. “Oh my god!” He exclaimed at the sight of the rookie who was surrounded by a pool of sweat soaked into his sheets and thin boxers. The shirt he went to sleep in was balled up next to him, which he probably tore off in the middle of the night from the heat and sweat. It allowed the deep red flush on Dylan’s face to be tracked down his chest and up to the roots of his sweat matted brown curls.

Glossy blue eyes starred up at Riley, flushed face filled with misery and discomfort. He let out a little whimper, curling up tighter in the pool of sweat despite how hot it must be.

“You’re burning up, kid.” Riley pressed the back of his palm to Dylan’s forehead, gently pushing his hair back. “There is no way you’re going to practice and no way I’m leaving you alone like this.” He started to make his way out of the room, only to tell Luke then come right back to tend to the rookie but was stopped by the small sound of another whimper.

“No, it’s fine, I don’t want you to miss practice because of me.” Dylan squeaked out. His voice shook the slightest, probably an effect of the lack of sleep.

“You’re my rookie and it’s my job to take care of you. They’ll understand. Will you be ok for a second while I talk to Luke?” Riley waited for Dylan to nod then made his way back into the kitchen to deliver the news of the rookie.

“Hey, where’s the kid? We need to leave.” Luke said as soon and Riley made it down the stairs, no rookie in sight.

“He has a really bad fever, there’s no way he can skate today. I’m gonna stay back and make sure he’s ok, can you tell Blash what’s going on?” Riley said.

“Yeah. Just make sure he gets better, we need him.” With that Luke headed out the door to go to the rink, Sheahan left to nurse the rookie back to health.

Before heading back upstairs, Riley grabbed a bottle of gatorade and water as well as the Tyleno and thermometer kept in the medicine cabinet. It sucked to miss practice like this but there was no way Dylan could be left alone in his current state. He’d just stay curled up in his own sweaty sheets, which was how Riley found him when he came back upstairs.

“Dylan, no.” He had made himself a little cocoon again, wrapped in heavy sweaty and snotty blankets. “You’re already too warm, we don’t need you over heating from all the blankets.” Riley pulled the covers off again, eliciting a whine from Dylan.

“Nooooooooo. I’m cold.” He curled back up miserably.

“Take one of these, it will make your fever go down.” Riley handed him a Tylenol tablet and the bottle of water, making sure both were taken down. “Open.” Riley said, holding the thermometer up to Dylan’s mouth and prodding it under his tongue.

Once the thermometer beeped, Riley slid it out of the rookies mouth to see that it read 103.4 degrees. Jesus, the kid was burning up.

“Let’s get you in the shower ok? You need to cool off and clean up. I’ll change your sheets while you’re in there.” Dylan went into the bathroom with minimum whining, taking the clean set of clothes Riley offered to him on his way.

 

After his shower, Riley was able to get the clean rookie to lay on the couch in the living room so he would be easier to tend to. And so he could watch TV instead of bitching about being bored. Rookies were a handful, especially when they demanded something every five seconds.

“I feel like shit.” Dylan mumbled into the upholstery after being forced to eat a few crackers.

“I’m sorry kid. Can you drink this for me? The last thing we need is you getting dehydrated.” Dylan grumbled but excepted the glass of water before proceeding to fall asleep to the low murmur of sit-coms playing on TV.

It was late afternoon by the time Dylan woke up much less sweaty this time. Luke was home, sitting across the room reading something on his iPad.

“How ya feeling, kiddo?” He asked as Dylan sat up to flatten down his out of control curls.

“Ugh, better, but my head is pounding.”

“Oh good you’re up.” Riley said, coming in from the kitchen with another glass of water and thermometer in hand. “I want to see if your fever broke.” This time the thermometer read 99.1 degrees, significantly lower than previously.

After drinking another full glass of water and getting up to pee, Dylan snuggled into Riley’s side on the couch. He pulled his attention away from the Tiger’s game to look at the rookie’s head on his shoulder.

“Thank you for taking care of me today.” Dylan squeaked, glassy eyes blinking up at him. “I’m sorry I made you miss practice.”

“Anytime, kid. It’s not your fault you got sick, taking care of you is part of my job as your mentor.” Riley swept Dylan’s curls away from his forehead and pressed a kiss to the pal flesh.

“I’m glad I’m your rookie.” Dylan said sweetly, embracing the comfort from his mentor.

 

2: Food poisoning 

Henrik Zetterberg came back to his hotel room to find it empty, no rookie in sight. After a moment of puzzlement as to where he could be, belching and chocking sounds being emitted from the bathroom answered the question. Gently creaking the door open, it revealed his rookie, Dylan Larkin, hunched over the toilet bowl, more or less puking his guts up.

“Hey, hey, Dylan, what happened?” He said, rushing to crouch down on the tile next to the bend rookie, rubbing soothing circles on his sweaty back. Dylan had been fine just and hour ago at dinner. He showed no signs of sickness the entire road trip.

“Yeah, I just-” Another round of throw up interrupted Dylan’s words, sending him into a new cycle of painfully vomiting up what ever was left in his stomach.

“Oh, Dylan...” Hank said, continuing his soothing touches, feeling at a loss because there wasn’t much else he could do.

Dylan finally stopped enough to enable himself to take deep breathes, allowing Hank to call in some back up on handling the sick rookie.

To Nik K  
-Dylan’s really sick. He’s throwing up in the bathroom rn. Can you bring a few bottles of water and saltines?-

To Hank Z  
-I was just about to txt you. Gus is throwing up too. I’ll bring water and crackers hold on-

To Nik K  
-Thanks. Is Goose ok? Bring him over too, we don’t need anyone else getting sick-

To Hank  
-Ok, he’s curled up in bed rn, finally stopped throwing up. Poor kids :(

Dylan hurled for what was hopefully the last time before curling into a small ball on the cold tile holding his stomach. His hair was drenched in sweat, matted down and plastered to his forehead. Hank swept it back before planting a gentle kiss on the newly exposed skin.

“Let’s get you into some cleaner clothes then into bed, alright?” Hank asked, prodding at the rim of Dylan’s T-shirt and lifting it over his after he nodded. He managed to get off his jeans and well and returned with a pair of sweat pants and a shirt not drenched in sweat. Hank offered Dylan the small bottle of complimentary mouthwash that came in hotels and had him wash his mouth out before leading him back out into the room with a comforting arm around his shoulder.

Kronner and Gus knocked on the door just as Hank was getting Dylan situated into bed. Gus was tucked under Nik’s arm, eyes fluttering shut and blonde hair glued with sweat to his forehead. He looked awful. Hank was thankful to see the bottles of water and crackers under his other arm.

“Hi.” Hank said, taking the items from Nik and placing them on the desk in the room. “I’m sorry, Gus. You must feel awful.”

Gus let out a whine and a small nod in agreement. Nik led him to the same bed that Dylan was now comfortably nested in and pulled back the covers for him to lay down.

“Thanks for bringing these, Kronner.” Hank said, pouring water into a glass for Dylan and unwrapping a stack of crackers.

After a bottle of water and a few crackers each, Gus and Dylan finally started to feel a little better. They were still curled up, but didn’t feel the constant need to throw up.

“I don’t know what happened. The were fine all day at practice and started throwing up after we left the restaurant.” Nik said, sitting down on the opposite bed and reaching an arm out to stroke a Gus’ sweaty hair.

“Wait. Dylan, what did you eat at the restaurant? That place was terrible.” Hank asked.

“I dunno, some kinda chicken. Wasn’t good.” He mumbled into the pillow.

“What about you, Gussie?”

“Same thing. Chicken.”

“You guys must have gotten food poisoning. I think you’ll be ok, for tomorrow’s game.” Hank said, pressing a kiss to Dylan’s forehead then to Gus’.

“I still feel like shit.” Gus mumbled.

“You’ll be ok. You can sleep here tonight, Dylan won’t mind.” Dylan was half way asleep and already curled around Gus.

“I’m gonna head back to my room. Feel better boys.” Kronner said, nodding to Zetterberg then grabbing his key and walking out.

Hank stayed up to make sure both his teammates fell asleep comfortably, with out needing to throw up, before pressing another kiss to the forehead of each and finally going to bed. Taking care of a sick rookie is a lot of work.

 

3: Motion Sickness

“You ok, kid?” Pav asked as he passed Dylan’s seat on the plane. Dylan was curled up into a tiny ball on his seat, slumped against the window with his head pressed to the cool glass. His face was scrunched up into an uncomfortable look of misery, which was not a good thing when they were in a plane halfway through a flight to Edmonton.

“Ugh. My stomach doesn’t feel good.” Dylan moaned, drawing his legs closer to his chest. Pavel stepped out of the isle and sat down into the seat next to him, concerned about the rookie.

“You sick? I get Riley?” He asked.

“No, I just get sick on planes sometimes. I’m fine.” The whimper of pain he let out said otherwise.

“You not ok, Dylan. I get you water and blanket. Try to sleep.” Pavel patted the rookie’s shoulder and stood up to retrieve a few bottles of water and a blanket kept at the back of the plane.

When Pavel returned to Dylan’s seat, his face was red and beads of sweat were caught in his hair and making their way down the sides of his face.

“Drink. Cool off, Dylan, you not ok.” Dylan took the bottle from Pav, mumbling a thank you and quickly drained half of it, much more thirsty than he though he was.

“Thanks, I’m ok, just the turbulence makes me sick. Pavel shot him a disapproving glare but settled in next to him and let the rookie settle in his lap, drifting off to sleep. Most of the team was already asleep by now, but Pavel felt the need to stay up and keep an eye on Dylan. He settled in, pulling up a russian comedy he was behind on and being carful not to disturb the sleeping rookie. This was going to be a long flight.

After 45 minutes or so, Dylan woke up to go to the bathroom, stumbling down the isle and being as carful as possible not to wake his teammates. They began to hit a patch of ruff air when Dylan was making his way back, the plane shaking the slightest.

“Pav...I-I don’t feel good.” He mumbled, clutching the back of a seat to steady himself as Pavel made room for him to crawl back into his seat.

“I know, breathe ok? In, out. It help to calm stomach.” Pavel said, rubbing a flat palm in soothing figures across Dylan’s back. Dylan tensed, a look on his face Pavel couldn’t quite read, before grabbing an air-sick bag from the seat pocket and hurling into it.

“Shh, Shh. You ok, Dylan.” Pav soothed, continuing to pat Dylan on the back as he emptied his stomach.

“Ugh, I feel like shit.” Dylan groaned, wiping his mouth with a tissue as Pavel moved to throw away the bag.

“I know. Rest ok? Sleep good. You not sick when sleeping.”

Dylan nodded, settling back into his seat and curling up in Pavel’s lap. The soft movement of his magic hands gliding through Dylan’s dark curls and the gentle kiss pressed to his forehead made his drowsy, lulling him to sleep.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” He whispered into the quietness and calmness of the plane.

“Welcome. Now shh. Sleep good.” Dylan smiled to himself, feeling grateful that he was lucky enough to get drafted on a team with such great teammates.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
